


First Time

by darkwarf



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (very briefly bc gabriel's a dick to zira), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Shaming, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Laughter During Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Self-Esteem Issues, body image issues, crowley abusing Miracles lmao, forked tongues, i love how that's a tag xD, oh boy uhhh, snake tongues, uhhh what else, yes zira is a virgin fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 06:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21333877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkwarf/pseuds/darkwarf
Summary: He licks his lips unconsciously, missing how the demon’s hungry eyes follow his tongue. “It’s something I’m ready to do. Or…at least try.”Crowley’s whole body freezes up. He can imagine the demon’s wide eyes behind his sunglasses, especially when he practically squeaks, “With me?”Aziraphale can’t help smiling at that, taking a bold step forward and, even bolder, touching Crowley’s forearm. “Yes, my dear,” he says fondly, “with you. Only you.”That’s apparently what Crowley needed to hear. Because once those words leave Aziraphale’s lips, the demon surges forward and finds the nearest wall to press him up against.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 483





	First Time

**Author's Note:**

> as much as i enjoyed writing this, it's probably the only GO fic i'll write x'D  
originally posted to tumblr here: https://darkwarf.tumblr.com/post/185657881021/first-time

Their first time together is actually Aziraphale’s request.**  
**

Though ethereal beings don’t typically feel arousal, he _does_ have a physical body and, as such, the ability to become aroused. But for Aziraphale, it didn’t start off as sexual arousal. It was more of a longing for intimacy, of wanting to be closer to his best friend. He didn’t even realize how obvious it was until, after spending some time with Adam and his friends, Anathema turned to the angel and told him, rather bluntly, “If you keep doing that, Crowley is going to become discorporated just from sexual frustration.”

Aziraphale had blinked in confusion. “Doing what?”

“Being all over him. Aziraphale,” she had said in disbelief, “in the course of just one hour, you’ve been holding his hand, resting your head on his shoulder, and practically sitting in his _lap_.”

“Oh, well, that was because the bus–”

“Had plenty of extra seats in the back, far away from him.” The witch had smiled at him knowingly. “You can just tell him, you know. Love isn’t a sin, is it?”

It’s not and he knows that. Lust, however, is _very_ much a sin, and it’s one that the angel’s been trying to avoid. Until that conversation, at least. Because once they did become a couple, officially, Aziraphale realized that there were some more…_unholy_ feelings in the mix.

And he didn’t tell Crowley about them until much, much later. Well, until now, to be more specific. He’s expecting the demon to react strongly. After all, they’ve only been kissing so far, and they haven’t even shared any _deep_ kisses, ones with open mouths and clashing tongues. Aziraphale figures that, if Crowley knows that the angel lusts for him too, he’ll jump at the opportunity to speed their sex life forward.

But instead, the demon gives him a patient smile, setting down the random book he picked up while loitering in the angel’s bookshop. “Ah,” he says, with his usual flippancy, “well, that’s good to know, angel. Glad we both feel that way then.”

Aziraphale’s lips twitch up nervously. “Right.” Is that it? Do they just…go back to the way things were now? Or does Aziraphale need to do something else? “You, uh, don’t seem that…_happy_ about it.” Which isn’t the right word, but, well, he doesn’t want to tell Crowley that he was expecting the demon to actuallyact on his desires. _Their_ desires, since it’s mutual.

Crowley arches an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m plenty _happy_ with it. Thrilled, even. But just because you feel the same way doesn’t mean you’re ready for anything. And that’s fine!” He starts walking away, his voice getting farther as he says, “I mean, I’ve waited six thousand years–no, more than that by now–so what’s a little bit of extra time? Not to say that I expect it, if you never want to go all the way, that’s fine by me, I’m not the kind of demon to break something off because of that–”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale tries, not loudly enough.

“–and I mean, we’re not human, we can just, you know, turn that stuff off whenever we want, so it isn’t really the greatest loss for me, but–”

“Crowley!”

Crowley’s head peeks out of the other room, eyebrows raised above his sunglasses. “Yeah?”

Aziraphale fidgets with the collar of his shirt. “What if…what if I _was_ ready for it?”

_That_ gets Crowley to stop rambling. He stays still for a long moment, just gaping at the angel, until he strides forward and crosses the room with startling speed. “What exactly are you saying?”

The angel fidgets again, unable to meet the demon’s eyes. “It’s…it’s not _just_ a feeling for me, Crowley. It’s a…desire. It’s something I _want_ to do.” He licks his lips unconsciously, missing how the demon’s hungry eyes follow his tongue. “It’s something I’m _ready_ to do. Or…at least try.”

Crowley’s whole body freezes up. He can imagine the demon’s wide eyes behind his sunglasses, especially when he practically squeaks, “With me?”

Aziraphale can’t help smiling at that, taking a bold step forward and, even bolder, touching Crowley’s forearm. “Yes, my dear,” he says fondly, “with you. Only you.”

That’s apparently what Crowley needed to hear. Because once those words leave Aziraphale’s lips, the demon surges forward and finds the nearest wall to press him up against.

_This_ kiss is unlike all the others. It’s hot and needy, consisting of Crowley crashing their mouths together and licking at the angel’s lips, begging for permission. It awakens every desire, every sinful fantasy that Aziraphale’s been repressing for so long, and he moans at the feeling, parting his lips without hesitation. Crowley instantly dives in, tilting his head to deepen their kiss and shove his tongue in more, pulling another breathy moan from the angel’s open mouth.

Oh, thank _God_ they don’t need to breathe.

After what feels like eternity, Crowley pulls away, but only to speak between quicker kisses.

“You just–”

_Kiss._

“–made me–”

_Kiss._

“–the happiest–”

_Kiss._

“–demon ever–”

_Kiss._

After the fifth kiss, Aziraphale giggles and has to raise his hand up, smiling when Crowley ends up kissing his palm instead. “My dear,” he says, completely breathless, “before we do anything else, could we possibly move to our _bedroom_ first?”

With their faces this close together, he can see how Crowley’s pupils dilate and feel the demon’s hot breath as he hisses, “_Yesss_. Right, of course, yeah, let’s do that.” But instead of stepping back, the demon simply snaps his fingers and teleports them to their bedroom. Aziraphale gives him a look for that, about to chastise him for wasting Miracles, but yelps in surprise as he’s pushed down onto their bed. Crowley crawls right on top of him, grinning down at the angel like a snake that’s just caught his next meal.

Which really _shouldn’t_ be attractive, but Aziraphale finds himself swallowing loudly, his trousers getting even tighter.

This time, when Crowley kisses him again, Aziraphale tries to reciprocate more. It’s hard to keep up with the demon’s, uh, _enthusiasm_, but the angel brushes their tongues together gently and Crowley freezes, giving Aziraphale a moment to toy with the appendage in his mouth. He strokes it tentatively, waiting to see how Crowley reacts, and keeps going when the demon makes a low sound in his throat. As he does, Crowley’s hands start moving, eager to strip off the fancy shirt and vest that are suddenly _way_ too constricting on the angel’s body. He gets the third button popped off before Aziraphale stops him, grabbing his wrist weakly.

“I-is that really necessary?” Aziraphale shifts uncomfortably. “I could just, well, keep the shirt on.” 

Crowley arches an eyebrow. Then, without warning, he pulls off his sunglasses and tosses them to the side. Aziraphale winces when they shatter on the ground, but can’t help being captivated by the demon’s golden irises, staring down at him in disbelief. “You want to stay _clothed_?”

“Just…just a little, yes.” He can’t help it, not since Gabriel made that comment about losing weight. And not since he’s learned just how _unattractive_ many humans consider people like him to be. What if Crowley feels the same way? He wouldn’t be mean enough to say anything, but it might make him not want the angel anymore, or not want him as much, or–

Another kiss, sweeter this time, cuts off his train of thought. Aziraphale cups the demon’s face in his hands, letting out a pleased sigh as Crowley’s tongue massages his own, seemingly determined to wipe away any self-deprecating thought the angel may have. But eventually, something changes. The appendage in his mouth feels…different. Longer, _much_ longer, and with a little slit at the tip. Aziraphale’s eyes open in surprise and that’s when Crowley pulls away, but not before giving the angel’s lip a little nibble with what _now_ looks to be sharp fangs. Those definitely weren’t there before.

Aziraphale likes them.

“Why don’t we make a deal, hmm, angel?” Crowley’s tone is playful, which is reassuring; the angel doesn’t want his own issues to ruin their fun. “If I show you all of me, I get to see all of you. That sounds fair, yeah?” With his fangs and forked tongue, the demon’s words are caught between a lisp and a hissing sound. Aziraphale likes _that_ too.

Though the thought still unsettles him, the angel reluctantly agrees with a nod. Besides, it wouldn’t be honest to let the demon think he doesn’t look this way. He should let Crowley see for himself and if it disgusts him that much, they can–

“Good,” Crowley growls, interrupting his thoughts again, “so let’s move these out of the way.”

Aziraphale didn’t even realize his hands were covering his stomach until, with a surprising amount of strength, Crowley yanks them away and pins them above the angel’s head, using his free hand to finish unbuttoning the vest, practically ripping them off in the process. Aziraphale huffs and squirms in his grip. “_I_ can do that, Crowley–”

“Mmm,” Crowley hums, pausing when he gets the vest open. “Yeah, I didn’t quite think this through.” He releases the angel’s wrists and sits back on his heels. “Sit up, angel, I know you don’t want me to rip this off.”

Aziraphale chuckles at that, doing as ordered. “Perhaps some other time,” he offers, to the demon’s obvious surprise. Crowley grins deviously and, with Aziraphale’s help, wrenches the offending garment off and tosses it to the side. It’s as if the angel’s clothes personally upset him, making Aziraphale giggle at the thought of it. But when Crowley unbuttons his shirt next, the last layer of clothing covering him, Aziraphale tenses up, bracing himself for the worst.

The worst never comes.

“_Angel_,” Crowley growls, the sound going straight to Aziraphale’s crotch. “You’re gorgeous.” That, too, goes to the same place. Aziraphale relaxes slightly, reassured by the demon’s response. The lust in those golden irises is obvious and, yes, there’s love there too. It’s just what Aziraphale needs to sigh in relief and help Crowley take off his shirt completely, flinging it to the side with his vest.

“I like this part of you,” the angel admits, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Your, uh, teeth and tongue. Why do you hide them, dear?”

“Well, most humans don’t have them looking like mine,” Crowley tells him. “And you know, angel,” he says, hand slithering down the angel’s body, “I _love_ this part of you. Should show it more often,” he adds, rubbing the angel’s pudgy belly. Aziraphale’s cheeks burn hotter at that, the compliment piercing through some of his doubts.

“I don’t think I’ll be going around shirtless very often,” Aziraphale quips. Crowley chuckles. Just as Aziraphale’s about to suggest it, he strips off his own shirt, making no show of it, and treats the angel to the sight of _his_ exposed body. Aziraphale reaches up to touch him, but as soon as their skin makes contact, Crowley gently pulls his hand away, pressing an apologetic kiss to the angel’s knuckles.

“Aziraphale,” he murmurs, “if you touch me now, I am_ going_ to lose control.” 

Aziraphale frowns in confusion, but a quick glance down at the demon’s crotch shows him that–-oh, yes, he’s practically _bursting_ out of his trousers. Aziraphale’s breath hitches. Has Crowley been going slow just for him? He appreciates it, since Aziraphale’s never done this before, but as touching as it is, he doesn’t want the demon to hold himself back.

Aziraphale sits up again, giving Crowley a brief kiss. “Crowley,” he soothes, “you don’t need to hold yourself back. I…I want this to be enjoyable for you, so if you tell me what to do–”

“That’s the thing,” Crowley blurts, gripping the angel’s hips harder. “There’s so much we _can_ do and I–God, angel, I’ve waited _centuries_ for this, I don’t know where to start. I just want to look at you and touch you and–” he cuts himself off with a groan, ducking his head down to lick at the angel’s throat, “–_taste_ you.” Aziraphale moans at that, resisting the urge to grab the demon’s back as he sucks loving marks into the angel’s skin. “Fuck, just–just tell me what _you_ want,” Crowley pleads, lowering his hips enough to grind down against Aziraphale’s arousal and–-oh, _oh_, that feels wonderful. Aziraphale bucks up unintentionally, feeling his own need respond.

“A-ah,” he pants, thinking about Crowley’s words. He really wants what Crowley wants, but more than that, he wants–-he _knows_ what he wants, he just needs to make himself say it. “I…I want _you_, Crowley.” No, not good enough. Crowley lifts his head up, staring down at Aziraphale expectantly, and the angel manages to stammer, “I-I want you to take me. I want you to–to be inside of me.” Then, averting his eyes, he whispers, “I want you to make me _yours_.”

The sound Crowley makes isn’t one Aziraphale’s ever heard before, but he _really_ likes it.

Crowley sits up, putting distance between them, but Aziraphale immediately realizes why. His long fingers go straight for his belt, unbuckling it impatiently as he growls, “You’re _already_ mine, my angel.” His pants are shoved down next, thrown over the side of the bed carelessly. “You always have been. And I’ve always been yours. You know that, right?”

There’s a desperate edge to Crowley’s voice, a need for Aziraphale to understand, that makes the angel surge up and kiss him hard. “Of course, dear,” he says, completely honest. “I do, I do know that.”

“_Good_.” 

Aziraphale tries getting his own pants off, not hindered by a belt, but Crowley swats his hands away and peels them off in a hurry, letting them join his own clothes on the floor. Since Crowley apparently goes commando, Aziraphale’s the only one wearing boxers, but those are quick to go too. And once they’re both naked, Crowley lowers himself down again to lick the outside of Aziraphale’s ear with his forked tongue, making the angel to shudder. But it’s Crowley’s next words, delivered in such a sinful whisper, that has the angel turning scarlet.

_“Get on all fours for me.”_

“Crowley!” Aziraphale squeaks, too shocked to act. Crowley’s breath tickles his neck as he laughs, lifting his head up to smile down at the angel in clear amusement.

“Oh, relax,” he teases, “I’m not going to _take_ you like that. This is just preparation.”

Aziraphale huffs. Regaining his composure, he sits up and does as ordered now, turning around to make things easier for the demon. “You could have just said _that_ first,” he complains, trying to ignore how this new position is making him feel. It _should_ feel degrading, presenting himself like an animal in heat, feeling the weight of his belly sag as he holds himself up. But when Crowley whistles in approval, snapping his fingers to Miracle some lubricant on them, Aziraphale finds that he doesn’t care all that much about those things.

“Right,” Crowley agrees sarcastically, “I should’ve said, ‘hey, angel, I need to stretch you out for my massive wang, so get on your hands and knees’.” The unexpected slang has Aziraphale laughing instantly, but it melts into a soft groan when Crowley pushes his finger in.

“I-I can’t disagree with that,” Aziraphale manages to say, remembering the sight of the demon’s stiff cock on display, nestled in a patch of curly auburn hair. He can feel it brushing up against the inside of his thigh too, making the angel squirm even more.

Crowley chuckles, going even deeper, and it’s a rather…_interesting_ sensation. Aziraphale doesn’t quite hate it, but he enjoys the feel of Crowley’s hand on his back more, rubbing soothing circles that distract Aziraphale from the finger probing inside him. “Just tell me if you need to stop, okay?” The obvious concern makes Aziraphale smile, feeling a surge of love as the demon starts rambling. “Or, you know, to just slow down, or wait a bit, or do something differently–”

“Crowley,” the angel says, very fondly, “I will. Don’t worry about–_oh!_”

“Ah,” Crowley says, sounding utterly pleased, “_there_ it is.”

Aziraphale doesn’t get to ask what ‘it’ is because Crowley does it again, crooking his finger up and brushing against a certain spot that has Aziraphale arching his back involuntarily, bucking his hips up with another startled moan. “O-oh, Crowley,” he pants, barely noticing the second finger enter. His mouth falls open as a wave of hot _pleasure_ rolls over him, causing a litany of moans and gasps to spill from the angel’s lips. He tries biting his lip to stifle them, too embarrassed to hear those sounds coming from himself, but that fails when Crowley’s other hand slides up to his jaw and tugs his bottom lip down with one finger.

“None of that, angel,” Crowley chides, leaning forward to speak near the angel’s ear again, hissing in delight when Aziraphale whines. “I need to hear you. Please,” he adds, as if asking for permission. Aziraphale can only nod, feeling overwhelmed with multiple sensations as the demon’s fingers keep hitting that spot inside him. At the same time, his other finger slips past the angel’s lips and Aziraphale’s tongue curls around it, sucking on the long appendage as if it were the demon’s–

“Oh, _God_,” Crowley curses, removing his finger quickly. “I swear, you’re the real demon here, because you are _tempting_ me to Heaven and back.”

Well, that wasn’t the angel’s intention, but he still preens at the…praise? Coming from the demon, yes, that must be it.

Finally, just as Aziraphale’s arms are about to give out, Crowley withdraws all three fingers, leaving Aziraphale feeling oddly empty. “Turn over, angel,” he rumbles.

Aziraphale does just that, his arousal twitching in anticipation when he lies flat on his back again, crystal blue eyes filled with love as he looks up at the beautiful demon. And he sees that love reflected in the demon’s golden orbs, a genuine smile sneaking onto Crowley’s face. That’s all Aziraphale needs to relax his body, to tilt his head up and meet the lips seeking out his own, to give into their mutual desires and trust Crowley, his demon, his _lover_, with one of the most intimate acts that two beings can share.

“Ready?” Crowley asks.

“Yes,” Aziraphale answers.

The loving look in Crowley’s eyes only glows brighter. But there’s a spark of mischief, Aziraphale notices, when he spreads the angel’s legs without warning and hooks them over his shoulders, getting Aziraphale to squeak in surprise, clinging onto the sheets. “Crowley!”

Crowley leers at him. “What, did you want me to say ‘spread ‘em’?”

Aziraphale flushes even more. “N-no…well, yes, but–”

“_Oh_?” Crowley’s grin is immensely pleased. “You like some dirty talk, hmm? Wow, angel, you’re just full of surprises.”

“I’d rather be full of _you_,” Aziraphale mutters without thinking. It’s only when Crowley gapes at him that he realizes what he just said. Aziraphale didn’t think he could blush any deeper, but apparently he can. And before he can take it back, Crowley’s lips curl up into a filthy smile.

“Well, anything for _my_ angel.”

It’s a good thing that Crowley prepared him first, because even though the demon enters him slowly, he is undeniably _big_. There’s a slight burn as the angel’s stretched wider, but Aziraphale bites his lip and bears it. He focuses on Crowley’s reaction instead, hearing the breath escape him in a hiss. “Oh, _yesss_, that’s it,” he groans, eyes falling shut in bliss. When they open again, his pupils are huge, black swelling over gold, and Aziraphale feels like he could get lost in them. But then Crowley is sliding in deeper, moaning louder, and the sensation becomes too much to ignore. It hurts, of course, because the angel has never been taken before, and he tries not to whimper at the feeling, not wanting Crowley to stop.

Crowley, however, notices and stops. “Does–does it hurt?”

Aziraphale takes a shaky breath. “I-it’s fine, dear,” he tries to say, but Crowley growls in a way that suggests it most certainly isn’t fine. Still holding onto the angel’s hip with one hand, his other hand travels lower and curls around the angel’s arousal. Aziraphale finds himself arching into the demon’s hand as his hand starts moving, determined to lessen the pain with each tender, loving stroke. The angel’s thighs start trembling, his voice coming out as a high, desperate whine. “_Crowley_–”

“Just wait, angel,” Crowley whispers, swallowing his moans with another kiss. He’s stopped moving now, having gone all the way in, and now Aziraphale can only focus on how _full_ he feels. The discomfort has already faded away, almost as if the demon Miracled it away, and Crowley’s words have him shivering in anticipation. “Hell, you feel–you feel _amazing_, you take me so well, angel.” He rolls his hips gently and Aziraphale gasps. “I could just stay like this forever.”

“I-I hope you don’t,” Aziraphale weakly jokes, getting a grin out of Crowley. He kisses the angel again, moving his hips in slow, shallow thrusts that aren’t exactly stimulating, but they aren’t painful either. If anything, it’s rather…_pleasant_. Aziraphale smiles around their kiss, his body relaxing into the mattress as it adjusts to the intrusion, until he feels ready enough to break their kiss and whisper, “You can move now.”

Crowley hums in amusement, pecking him on the lips. “I’ve _been_ moving. Unless,” he adds, grinning cheekily, “you want me to go _faster_?”

Aziraphale nearly rolls his eyes because, yes, that’s obviously what he wants. “Yes, Crowley,” he tries to quip, but it comes out more as a plea, “go faster. Please.” 

Crowley gives him a pleased rumble and complies, speeding up his thrusts just enough to make the angel have to catch his breath again. They’re both panting now, exchanging sloppy kisses between hot puffs of air, and Aziraphale can’t help marveling at the sheer _intimacy_ of it all. He can see why humans do this now. Sure, being on the receiving end isn’t _that_ pleasurable, but that hardly matters when they’re joined together like this, when Crowley’s obviously enjoying it and is doing his best to make sure Aziraphale does too, kissing him and touching him in the one place that actually _is_ stimulating–

_“Ahhh!”_

Okay, well, he immediately takes that back, because it seems like Crowley’s found _that_ spot again. And sure enough, the demon grins triumphantly, giving a much sharper thrust that has the angel arching his back with a loud gasp. “Wow,” he murmurs, “that was _much_ louder this time.”

The angel flushes hotter, both in embarrassment and arousal. “I-I was just surprised,” he retorts weakly. Then, more insistently, he says, “Do that again…please.” Crowley does so, forcing another moan out of the angel, but stops after that. Aziraphale groans. “_Crowley_.”

“You didn’t say how many times,” Crowley says, smirking.

_“Keep going!”_

That seems to do the trick. Crowley’s hips snap forward again, but this time, they don’t stop. He sets a fast pace for them that has Aziraphale rising up to meet each thrust, though it’s hard to do with Crowley moving his hands to grip both of the angel’s hips, tight enough to leave bruises. Each wave of pleasure is hot and _burning_, making the angel squirm and babble mindlessly as his senses are quickly overwhelmed. “A-ah, Crowley, _Crowley_, oh, _God_–”

Crowley answers with a needy growl, fingers digging deeper into the angel’s skin, his thrusts getting faster and more frantic. “_Azzziraphale_,” he hisses, the sound like music to the angel’s ears. “Say my name, _fuck_, tell me–tell me what you want, what you need–”

“_You_,” Aziraphale cries. He can feel himself slipping, falling, unable to last much longer, and he finally abandons the bed sheets to cling onto Crowley, forgetting what the demon warned him about earlier. “I need you, only you, Crowley–_oh!_ Please, please, go faster, _harder_,” he begs, practically shrieking when the demon does just that. Neither of them care about the bed rocking dangerously, slamming up against the wall, as they get closer and closer to the edge, to finishing what they both started–

All of a sudden, Crowley reaches down to touch Aziraphale again, giving the appendage hard, fast strokes that have the angel whimpering with need. “I’m–I’m so–_Crowley_,” he shouts, spilling into the demon’s hand. His whole body goes limp, overcome by the waves of bliss washing over him, dragging him down into their warm depths. 

It’s as if time goes still for that moment, until the euphoria fades away and Aziraphale’s eyes flutter open, breathing out a soft, surprised gasp when he realizes that time _has_ gone still and Crowley’s the one responsible for it, watching the angel with a reverence more fitting for a follower worshiping their God. His chest is heaving as he pants, golden eyes captured in the angel’s crystal blue, and Aziraphale has never felt more loved in his life.

“I love you, Crowley,” he confesses. Just like that, time resumes, and Crowley drops to his elbows, pressing kisses to the angel’s hot, sticky skin, right where neck meets shoulder.

“_Aziraphale_,” he breathes, full of so much adoration, so much longing, that Aziraphale doesn’t care if the demon can’t say the words back, because the words are still there. He can feel them in everything Crowley does, in the way Crowley kisses him, in the way his grip softens and he lowers the angel’s hips down gently, pulling out of him slowly, the movement causing no pain for the angel. He nearly whimpers at the loss, but gasp when he feels something wet slipping out of him, only now realizing that the demon came inside him, at the same time Aziraphale did.

Aziraphale squirms at the sensation, but the thought of it makes him…well, best not to think of that, or else he might want a second time way too soon. He is, however, aware of how it must be staining their bed sheets and huffs in exasperation. “Dear, you’ve made a mess.”

“I can see that,” Crowley says, very suggestively, looking down at the bedded angel proudly. Licking his lips with his serpentine tongue, he asks, “Want me to clean it up?”

Aziraphale isn’t sure what he means by that, but the look on Crowley’s face tells him it’s not what he’s expecting. “Nevermind,” he decides, putting aside his own principles for a moment to just Miracle it away. Crowley pouts, but seems less disappointed when Aziraphale pulls him down for another kiss. This one is much slower, the two of them no longer rushed by their own need, and when Crowley pulls away, it’s only to lie next to Aziraphale’s side.

Aziraphale smiles at him happily. “That was…I don’t think I have words for it.”

“Hmm,” Crowley hums, lips twitching up, “how about ‘definitely worth waiting all this time for’?” The angel giggles at that, but is suddenly stung by guilt. He really has been making Crowley wait a long time, hasn’t he? If he were just able to accept his feelings earlier…if he didn’t try to deny them–

“Hey,” Crowley says, cupping his cheek. “What’s that look for?”

“I’m just…I’m just sorry I made you wait so long,” Aziraphale admits. Crowley’s eyes widen at that, but narrow when he growls softly. The angel isn’t sure if it’s directed at him, until Crowley pulls him in close and presses a wet kiss to the angel’s forehead.

“No, angel,” he murmurs, his tone insistent and firm. “Don’t apologize. I wouldn’t have it any other way. And I would _never_ want you to rush into anything you’re not ready for.” His finger trails down the angel’s cheek as he softly asks, “You know that, right?”

Aziraphale’s smile returns, his guilt soothed by the demon’s comforting words. “I know, my dear,” he tells him honestly, getting a happy rumble from the demon. “And…and now that we _have_ done this, I…I would like to do it again, that is, if you want to.”

Crowley perks up instantly. “Right now?”

“N-no,” Aziraphale stammers, unable to keep from laughing at the demon’s excitement. His smile stretches into a grin as he gets the courage to snuggle up to Crowley, pleased when the demon drapes an arm across his waist. “But later. And not just once, but…but more than once. Well, for as long as we both want to keep doing it.”

Crowley huffs in amusement. “That could be an awfully_ long_ time, angel.”

“It could,” Aziraphale agrees, humming in content when Crowley pulls him in even closer. The demon, of course, is unable to keep still for too long, so he starts rubbing circles into the angel’s back, getting Aziraphale to relax against him with a small sigh. “But if it’s with you, my dear, I don’t mind…”

“_Good_,” Crowley says and Aziraphale can not only hear the smile in his voice, but feel his cheeks pull up with the motion. “That’s…that’s good.”

Neither of them speak again after that. Crowley’s hand eventually slows and stops completely, lying still on the angel’s hip as the demon slips off into a peaceful sleep. The angel, for once, decides to join him, feeling exhausted in the _best_ way as he closes his eyes with a smile. He knows that when he wakes up, his demon will be there and this won’t just be a one time thing between them.

He doesn’t know, of course, that Crowley will be _insatiable_ for the next month or so, and Aziraphale doesn’t know how much _he’ll_ enjoy it either. 

Which, as it turns out, is very, _very _much.


End file.
